The Shifting Age
by Deep Color
Summary: “Project: Little Boy”, a venue for every single one of Meifu’s Shinigami to come together and attempt to clear away Japan’s biggest pool of despair. Includes substories and elements of shounenai: TatsumiTsuzuki TatsumiWatari.
1. Project: Little Boy' Part 1

**NOTE: Some parts of the timeline may be jumbled in no particular order. It depends on the effect I'm trying to achieve by jumbling them. Good luck and enjoy.**

**The Shifting Age** (Prologue)

by Deep Color

'Project:Little Boy' Part 1

_August 6, 1945_

_Tsuzuki checked his watch --- 8:55 PM --- and shivered at the recollection of this morning's meeting. Earlier, Iwada, or Kicchan as he liked to call the man, had talked to him in private. It was something about… _the perfect opportunity, _was it? He couldn't remember much; the shock from the news of the mission was too strong at that time, it blurred almost everything of the succeeding five hours._

_August 3, 1945 (8:55 AM)_

An overhead projector flashed three distinct words across the white screen. Three words that rang no bells for any of the eighteen Shinigami present in the Castle of Candles' spacious meeting room. It read:

_Project: Little Boy_

A distinct air of mixed derision and tension filled the room as soon as the words were seen.

"They bring us all the way here to capture a _boy_!" a tawny-haired, built man disbelievingly whispered to his partner who sat next to him—a rather lanky man with beady black eyes. He hit his own forehead with the balls of his palms in utter mockery. He caught Tatsumi frowning at his behavior.

"And a _little_ one at that…" the partner said, barely controlling his rude laughter.

Across the long, rectangular meeting table stood Chief Hanagawa, the Summons Division head. He made as if clearing his throat, subtly implying what did not need words, dead serious in his expressions as he proceeded to explain the major task to the division Shinigami.

"Project: Little Boy, is probably the biggest 'clean-up' we'll be doing in the history of the world," he began sternly. "Nagano, have you noticed anything special with the people in this meeting?" he asked, his eyes locked on a dark-haired Shinigami by the corner.

The dark-haired man shrugged, wondering why there was a need to state the obvious. "Why, we're the Summons Division, Sir. Meifu's 18 best Shinigami, working in nine pairs to patch up what other Cho's have had trouble with," he answered promptly.

Chief Hanagawa straightened up and gave Nagano a slight nod to acknowledge his answer. "The Summons Division is a collection of Meifu's best Shinigami; therefore, we are leading the mission. The nine Shinigami pairs are to be anchored around the target vicinity—Hiroshima and its neighbors—from the city itself to as far as one kilometer around it, at at least a hundred meters' interval from the next pair." On the white board behind the OHP screen, Chief Hanagawa drew a vague circle in reference to Hiroshima.

To illustrate, he drew nine stars in and around the circle, then proceeded on to placing dots around and in between the nine stars. "These dots are where all the other Shinigami are supposed to be stationed—behind the Summons Division and in the farther outskirts of the area. We are getting _all_ of Japan's Shinigami to help in this mission. A matter of national concern, if I may say so."

No one dared ask a question about the missing plot of the Project. Tsuzuki Asato could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing, his mind going haywire from all the questions it was asking itself.

_Just how _big_ is this mission to require the hands of all of Japan's Shinigami?_

Sitting quietly, his partner, Tatsumi Seiichiro could only wait for more details. The Chief did not seem to want to spill the beans on the real matter any time soon.

When it was time for location assignments, the two Taisen-Cho Shinigami were first in the list, "Tsuzuki and Tatsumi --- Zakoba-Cho, around 600 meters from the bridge in Hiroshima river---" Tatsumi bent his head down to scribble this in his notebook.

The Chief's voice hung around in the stillness in the room as he designated each of the nine pairs in detail. "Konoe and I are to be stationed at the market, 1.2 km away; Nanase-kun and Miyuki-san, the bank of Hiroshima river, 1 km from the center of the city..." he went on. When he was down to the last pair, he shot Meifu's best pair a meaningful and trustful look. "Lastly, Iwada and Kasano --- The Bank of Hiroshima, Hiroshima City."

_Tsuzuki strongly recalled, how it seemed that not one dead soul in the room knew what to make out of their assignments, or whether being assigned to a spot close to Hiroshima was a good or bad thing. Still, he found himself being pretty neutral about the whole thing up until…_

Just when the confusion was getting unbearable, the Chief tucked his glasses safely inside his breast pocket, patting it several times before clearing his throat to finally speak.

"As you all know, it is tradition in the world of the dead to allow a soul to say a few last words before its judgment. Several people have leaked _vital _information to us through this. Apparently, they were killed for posing a threat to leak information on government plans. This all happened halfway around the world in the United States, but the information concerns us _most especially_," he paused, waiting for the rest of the room as they tried to put two and two together.

"There are _bombing_ plans on Hiroshima. Atomic bombing plans, I must specify—a gun-type uranium A-bomb nicknamed the 'Little Boy'," still, not a single hair from anyone's head had stirred in the dead stillness of the room.

"It is slated---" he paused, seemingly not ready to believe his next words, "---August 6, 1945. Three days away from today."

All Tatsumi could remember was hearing someone exclaiming "Holy shit!" (probably the idiots from a while ago) and his own heart feeling like it was strangling itself on his arteries. It needed no genius to figure that all members of the audience were feeling a fear that the dead were never supposed to feel, now that they were dead.

"Now, one of these _witnesses_ was a half-Japanese who worked for the American military before he died, David Masamoto, who has recently become Shinigami for the Hawaiian division of the American Bureau," Hanagawa continued. "He told the American Death Bureau to warn Japan about the American military plans to drop "Little Boy" in Hiroshima City, if only for the area of our expertise to touch. Of course, we can never meddle with the affairs of the living, and so our task is to capture all souls of the dead there."

In one heavy sigh, he collected himself and went on. "Being veteran Shinigami, I expect you all to maintain professional distance while completing this mission." To that, a few Shinigami nodded, while a few, like Tsuzuki, were finding it difficult to stay calm, his mind going wild with the prospect of cleaning up a to-be murdered city.

Tsuzuki glanced to his right—his blonde seatmate was doing an awful job at hiding his disappointment as well, having brought his shock out on a piece of paper and a battered pen, now suffering the man's death grip. To his left, there was Tatsumi, who had looked down on his notebook, seemingly finding the neat writings there very interesting. Across the table from him, Tsuzuki spotted a curly-haired woman, chewing on her lower lip; her chest rising and falling a little heavier than it normally took a dead person to breathe.

The Chief cleared his throat once more, finding it rather difficult to speak in a neutral tone, but succeeding, although miserably so. "You must have it by heart that a soul does not leave the body in _24 hours maximum_. That is the time limit we are setting for you to capture all the dead souls. Sudden deaths often cause the souls to believe that they are still alive, and therefore find a strong attachment to Chijou, the world of the living—they will be harder to catch. More so after 24 hours, when, in a lengthened hiatus from death to the time of judgment, a spirit becomes stronger, having dwelled on its own long enough to accumulate enough energy to compensate for the body it has lost. Again, they will be harder to capture, especially since we are talking about thousands upon thousands of souls here…"

_Tsuzuki thought it was kind of amusing, how many kinds of silence the room had experienced in just that one meeting. There was first the silence of ignorance, silence of anticipation for the news, and then there was a wave of great fear silencing the slightest of whispers. In the end, there was only the silence of anguish and hearts being torn apart by merely two words… Little Boy._

_In Meifu, it was rare for anyone to be touchy for deaths other than their own at all, since it _was_ the subject of their job as 'gods of death', after all. Tsuzuki, however, was always of the rare kind._

Noiselessly enough for anyone who wasn't looking to miss, Tsuzuki stood up from his seat to slam his fists weakly on the table. It startled everyone in the room enough to release the tears of shock they were holding back on a while earlier, especially for the female Shinigami in the room. "So… we're just going to stand there and _watch _and_ wait _for all those people to die, Hanagawa-Kacho?"

_Of course Tsuzuki has a reason to be angry, _Tatsumi kept convincing himself. He didn't want to be responsible for his senior's actions later on, having people ogle him and whisper murmurs of him being the psycho's partner and all. He didn't even dare look up to meet anyone's eyes right now.

"Tsuzuki is right, Hanagawa-Kacho, aren't we supposed to be a little smarter than that?" Iwada Kinichiro was someone the whole of Meifu easily considered the _best_ Shinigami – in terms of power, intellect, and ability to command respect. And when he had his serious opinion on something, the world always stopped to listen.

Even the Chief felt some sort of incredible respect bordering to fear of the man. "I agree, Iwada-san, but it is has always been in the Kiseki that on that fateful day, thousands will die. We cannot change or manipulate the Kiseki for our human desires of… _saving_ people. We aren't human any longer."

"Surely we can change it _this time…_ We can… _pretend_ to be demons and scare people away from Hiroshima for a while. Or create a barrier over the entire city, not just on ourselves! We may not be able stop the explosion, but we can _cushion_ it. Do you understand? There are so many things we can do to—"

A hand grabbed Iwada's wrist to stop him. Kasano shot his partner a look so intense, one would have thought they were talking through the eyes. And true enough, Kasano and Iwada were renowned telepaths. Kasano then spoke to clear the issue for everyone else who couldn't hear telepathic messages. "Contrary to popular belief, the names in the Kiseki appear only _three days_ before the time of death; this is only to foretell events written down in Destiny. In essence, Kiseki _is_ Destiny. We, as workers of Meifu, are given the privilege to have a quick glimpse into what will be, but only for the reason that our line of work is based on this information of deaths. This is why we cannot do anything, just as Hanagawa-Kacho says. We were only told about this project now because of this reason, isn't it, Kacho?"

"I'm afraid that is correct, Kasano-san. Thousands upon thousands of names appeared on the Kiseki just this morning—which led us to think that the bombing will take place exactly 72 hours, or exactly three days, from when the first batch of names appeared—around 8 AM of August 6th."

The mere shock of the news brought tears to Tsuzuki's eyes without him even noticing them. They were brought to his attention only when they reached his lips and he tasted salt, and at that time, he felt like he could die a second death. He buried his face in his hands and muttered something that sounded like, "No way…"

Tatsumi badly wanted to do something, _anything _for his soft-hearted partner. He stared at the back of his hand that rested on the meeting table, and was momentarily thankful for the long sleeves of his suit for it covered the goosebumps forming right under the cloth. With the news he just heard, the room suddenly felt a few degrees cooler.

"Be at your posts at early dawn of the 6th and set up more than the usual amount of barriers for your own safety. You are required to dedicate _at least_ 60 of your energy to your barriers. We can't risk losing any one of you."

"Atomic bombs are the strongest explosives ever invented. Sadly, Fuda magic will and can never do the job. I know you all have powers other than and stronger than Fuda, so feel free to use them. I trust that you now understand why I call on the Summons Division to take care of Hiroshima. There are, of course, other stronger Shinigami than some of you here, but your first-rate spiritual powers and stamina can best handle the crucial region of the bombing. Do not shame our Division."

_---_

_Ten years ago, Tsuzuki would have found this pretty easy to handle, what with his partner at that time, too. Now, it was just spelling trouble before his eyes. It had crossed his mind that there would be no doubt that some Shinigami would find that retiring after this mission would be a good idea. And he will be left alone again…_

_His new partner, Tatsumi, wasn't really making things easier as well. Though already almost 3 years his partner, he was always aloof and detached when he needed him. And he quite liked it that way, too. This way, there would be no attachments of any sort. _

_But there were times when the blue-eyed Shinigami would go out of his way to do him little but meaningful gestures of that spoke so well of how he felt. Tsuzuki found that he hated the times when he would catch the man staring at him from behind those squared spectacles, a small smile playing on his lips. _

_Tsuzuki couldn't stand the thought that he was beginning to affect this man too._

_If only he could, he wished he wasn't so friendly to people… _

_And in the morning, he made a mental note, he would make sure to fix that._

-----

"Tsuzuki-san, have you finished the line-up of events in the case we did on Mr. Lee? I need to know the date and time of when we went to go see his daughter… I mean, the _eldest _daughter, not the youngest, please—" Tatsumi took a glance at his partner who was on the desk next to his and almost laughed, seeing the man silently dozing off in an upright position.

He checked the clock. It was already 9 in the evening, and they were probably the only two people left in the building. He had insisted earlier that Tsuzuki stay overtime to finally finish their overdue reports on last week's cases so that they'd be clear for the _Little Boy_.

"I guess 'this can wait until tomorrow,' right?" Tatsumi smiled as he stood, reaching to shake his partner awake. He stopped just as his hand reached Tsuzuki's shoulder. "Maybe not," he said to himself.

"Tatsumiii…" the owner of the name found it amusing that Tsuzuki always called him in the fashion of a plea. "Are we done yet?" Tsuzuki opened his eyes half-heartedly, closing them again when they saw that Tatsumi shook his head. "Can't work… Too sleepy… Baked a cake until 3 last night," his neck muscles gave way and he lapsed on his desk, sleeping.

"No, you can't sleep there; you might drool on the documents… Come on up, we'll go to the sofa. You can sleep there until I'm done and we can go home." Surprisingly enough, Tsuzuki followed and let his partner lead him to the cheap office couch near the door. Tatsumi smiled at the recollection of when Tsuzuki got to work this morning, right before the meeting, giving everyone he knew a slice of the too-salty cake he said he'd bake himself the previous night.

When Tsuzuki was down and lying on the couch that was too short for him, he yawned, rendering him a little more awake than earlier. He cleared his eyes of the tears that formed there when he yawned, and took a moment to look at the blue-eyed partner of his. He wrinkled his nose weakly, "I don't… like you very much… you know," he said, knowing full well that his statement had sounded bad, but nevertheless using his sleepiness as an excuse to sound drunk and out of himself. "Always unhappy."

Tatsumi sighed through his nostrils in surrender to his captivating partner as a little smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Nothing to be happy about after dying, Tsuzuki-san, that's all," Tatsumi answered plainly. He got up and went back to his desk, finishing whatever work Tsuzuki had left behind.

/to be continued

Please review, even just to acknowledge that you've read up til this point. It will mean _so much_ to me…


	2. Project: Little Boy' Part 2

**The Shifting Age **Chapter 1

'Project: Little Boy' Part 2

_Two days prior to Little Boy Operation; August 4, 1945 (Tsuzuki)_

Hey, how are you feeling today?

Good? Well, that's nice to hear… As for me, I've been feeling quite nauseous ever since yesterday's meeting.

Tatsumi walked me home last night. Although, I'm still kind of annoyed that he didn't just ask me to stay the night over in his Meifu quarters—it _was _a few blocks nearer here than my apartment, after all. But _no_, instead, he had to walk me home when I was _this _close to sleeping on the floor already.

And to think that The Big Day was getting nearer. Brrrrrr!

Between you and me, I didn't get much sleep when I got home, either. Just don't tell Tatsumi, or anyone else for that matter, because they're gonna be all worried about silly old me. Not that I need them to think about anything else, especially not my _sleeping schedule,_ at this particular point in history.

Hey, by the way, this morning, I got a quick sermon of sorts. It wasn't much, just Hanagawa-Kacho checking up on how I felt about the whole thing. I guess my seniors were right when they said we should be professional and all.

Don't you agree? After all, we _can't _do anything about it now, ne? We're just dead people, really. It probably wouldn't hurt to have a few more dead guys hanging around in the world of the dead. For all we know, the next generation of Shinigami might be among the to-be bomb victims. (Er… nasty image I had in my mind just then, about _bombed_ Shinigami working here. Aghh…)

Hey, what are you making that face for? Don't get me wrong—it's not like we don't _mind_ that an innocent part of our native land was going to be blown away on August-oh-six. We're nice people here in Meifu, really.

But you know, after all that feel-good talk, I still can't brag that I'm okay with everything.

After all, I just learned that my country's gonna be attacked by a few White Men, you know. And all the women, the children, the happy people there in Hiroshima… they're gonna die. I'm sorry if I keep rubbing it in your face. I mean, you must have taken this _way _better than I did—everyone else did a better job at remaining calm during the meeting. Hmf.

Well, how did _you _feel when you first heard that from Kacho? At that time, I personally couldn't stand it… I wanted to hit him then, square in the face. How _could_ he be so calm about it::sigh: Even though he's actually a very nice and jolly man, he's often overshadowed by his boring duties as our Chief.

Kind of reminds you of Tatsumi, doesn't it?

Bah. It pains my head if I think about things too much like that.

Agh, how I hate this!

Tatsumi says I should really take it easy. He says it's not my fault. But I don't understand… How can letting them just _die _not be my fault? If we could help it, why let it happen at all?

Tatsumi could be so thick sometimes. No matter what he did, he simply can't understand how I feel. It's not as if my feelings were _that _complicated or anything.

Oh, yeah! You don't know my friends yet. Well, well, let me, Mr. Superior-IQ, introduce them to you. Dum-dee-dum-dum! This is gonna be fun!

Okay, let's start with… me!

Ehem, ehem.

_Tsuzuki Asato, Tokyo native, born in the Meiji year, 1900, died at 26. 19 years a member of the Summons Division. Commander of the twelve most powerful Shikigami._

Beware of my wrath! Bwahahaha! Pretty impressive-sounding, yeah? But it's nothing big, really. I love my Shiki and they love me too. Happy, happy, we are.

Moving on, we have Bachelor number-two!

_Tatsumi Seiichiro, Tokyo native, born 1913; died at 29 in the winter of 1942. Three years working for Meifu as the infamous Tsuzuki Asato's partner-Shinigami, controlling Enma-Cho in Tokyo. Currently mastering Kagetsukai. _

He doesn't want to admit it, but he's very good with those shadow stuff. Creeepy. He's been the longest-termed partner I've had in my stay here. Yet, of all the partners I've had, he's the one I can't manage to get too close to. He's scary at times. Always work before play. And money, money, money…

Hmf, before I get too depressed over my relationship with him (and there's nothing romantic here, hey!), let's move on. Let me see… Who else…?

Hanagawa-Kacho? Well, I don't know much about him, really, except that he's been here a little longer than I have. I don't have his files in my mind-database, sorry. Oh! But his partner is none other than good-man Konoe. I say he's a good man because he likes sweet stuff too.

Hmm. How about I tell you about the two most wonderful people in Meifu?

Presenting… my best-est friends!

_Iwada Kinichiro, 24, came to Meifu a year before his partner. The only one of four Masters of Elemental Magic still in service to Meifu _(all the other 3 had retired one by one several decades back)._ The most powerful in the whole of Meifu, being in control of one of the basic elements; not needing the help of a Shiki or any other magic. Was not made Head of The Summons Division, however, because of strong attachments to his partner. Can but will never work alone or without Kasano. _

Ne, ne, I call him Kicchan! He says I'm the only one in the universe who can call him that! Waiiii he's very nice to me. We bake cakes during Sundays in my house. Sometimes, though, we just buy from Uncle Tony's. Good stuff.

Okay, now, his partner:

_Kasano Yuumei, appointed Moon Guardian before his death at 22 years old. Cause of death: Self-sacrifice to the moon god, and reportedly due to a cult prophecy of having to follow the Water Master in the next life. Part of a moon-worshipping cult as a living man. Master of the Shadow art, Kagetsukai, and plays mentor to Tatsumi Seiichiro._

He's even more serious than Tatsumi at most times, but he's pretty funny too. I asked him once, that since I could call Kinichiro "Kicchan", can I call him, Kasano, "Kaachan"? He got reeeaaaal angry. But it's okay, 'cause he really looks cute like that. Besides, my body was 26 years old, I looked much more intimidating.

Kasano-senpai and Kicchan are 78 and 79 years ahead of my time of employment respectively. They're really old, but they don't look like it at all.

Okay. We're done and set now. And anyway, I gotta bounce; Tatsumi's probably looking for my time-stamp reports on last week's case. Well, see ya!

---

_Hiroshima mayday; August 6, 1945 (Tatsumi)_

_5:00 AM_

"Tsuzuki-san, wake up."

Most of us had decided to spend the night here in the office. Some, however, had gone home late last night, owing to the fact that as much as we needed to be near one another for the Big Day that was to come, we needed to rest too.

My partner and I decided to stay here, however uncanny that seems.

There had been a weird party-of-sorts last night. And although no one had stated it, I'm pretty sure it felt like a huge farewell party to most of us who were there, toasting our coffee mugs together like drunken maniacs who couldn't tell much difference between red and blue.

The atmosphere was almost a desperate happiness. Like, somehow, we needed to pretend that we were all okay until tomorrow came, or for as long as Tsuzuki dared to sing the national anthem in a capella, which, surprisingly enough, not many had complained about. But nonetheless, the place was filled with cheery people, and if it were not for occasional forced smiles piercing the awkward laughter, one could think we were just having a mini-after-work-get-together.

It was all silly, really. Personally, I still couldn't bring myself to believe that I had slept on the floor in my carefully-ironed suit, side-by-side with _other_ men who had been quite busybodies in sleep, kicking and thrashing at me while I tried my hand on the deadly epidemic called 'sleep'.

Now, it was 5 in the morning, and I had just officially been crowned for my membership to the Early Birds Organization when Chief Hanagawa and a couple of other EB-Org senior members greeted me my first "Good morning" for the day.

Squinting in the dim light, I immediately turned to my partner without tearing my back from the floor where my partner was sprawled on the floor beside me, to wake him up from his heavenly sleep. I don't know why I even bothered—it just felt like the normal thing to do first thing on the day your country was going to be bombed.

"_Hi no maru_" Tsuzuki mumbled a semblance of the national anthem sleepily, seemingly not aware that he was being pulled from Dreamland. At least that brought me back to my senses. I didn't try to wake him up after that.

I looked around me for the first time today. I realized that outside, the sun was still dozing off, and that the only light in the room was coming from the hallway that led to the comfort rooms. I stood up to walk in that direction, thinking that relieving my body of excess caffeinated liquids from last night's antics would do me some good.

When I stood up, I stayed there, taking time to observe the people around me. First, I saw the sleeping form of my partner in its entirety. Then I regarded the other bodies lying beside him. There was Masahiro, the jolly 15-year-old kid who (not surprisingly) got along well with Tsuzuki, curling into a tight ball beside him. A foot from where I was once sleeping, Nagano, the feisty secretary, was dozing off peacefully, his head propped under both upturned palms and his left leg crossed over the other like he was just taking a nap under the Sakura tree outside. Then on the long couch, four people were squeezing together in what must have been an uncomfortable sitting-sleep. The very far left had Kasano who was staring at me as I regarded the place, his partner apparently still asleep on the pillow it had made out of his body. Konoe was also there next to them, head tilted back on the wall and mouth hanging open in his snore-filled slumber. There was an empty space beside him, and that's where, I think, Hanagawa-Kacho had been earlier. The two side-couches were occupied by the ladies, Miyuki and Nanase, the latter making good use of Konoe's rather abnormally large handkerchief as a makeshift blanket over her shivering torso.

I found that even if I strained my eyes, I couldn't make out the other bodies lying on the makeshift beds we made on the floor (which was really nothing more than towels, spare blankets, tablecloths and the like), but I'm certain there was more dead men sleeping than those I'd described. And there, all I could see was a mass of human silhouettes squeezed together in the small common room we had dared call 'home' after the mini-celebration we had not too long ago.

There was something rather eerie about the picture it was painting, although, I choose to believe that it was actually beautiful. I didn't find that hard to believe. It _was _beautiful. But with a sinking feeling settling in my chest, I knew, just then, that even if I wished hard for this peaceful little family (my first real family) to stay like this forever—not exquisitely happy but not unhappy either—I knew… it wouldn't be long before I had to say goodbye to this. I wouldn't even be able to stop it if we started falling apart…

And, just like my disapproving relatives used to tell me when I was all flesh, I realized…

I am a useless man, after all.

"Want some more coffee, Tatsumi-kun?" although Hangawa-Kacho's voice was painfully obviously on the humorous side, it took me a while to realize that he was joking. It was either because the last train of thought in my head was rather depressing, or that I was not a man of humor at all.

I managed a smile. "I was just going to the comfort room to rid myself of it." And with that, I walked towards our only source of light.

When I got there, Rin, a Japanese-grown Chinese member of our division, greeted me a cheery good morning.

I bent over the sink to wash my face with the cool water. "So… ready for later, big guy?" he asked me.

I found that I was unsure of how I should answer. "I suppose so. I mean, what good does crying over spilled milk do? If Kacho says there's no way we can help the situation, I guess I'm okay that at least I could help clear the place up instead," I answered.

He gave me a quick-lived smile, and he sighed. "Youthful optimism, that is." Normally, I would have been annoyed that he had even said that, he having died at only 20, while I outlived him by nine years. Then I remembered that he had been here way before I was, and quickly dismissed the thought of retorting something about that.

Well, I left it at that and decided to get some breakfast instead. I gathered the Early Birds and invited them with me to get something to eat at the office cafeteria, and was surprised to see Tsuzuki waking up the instant I mentioned 'food'. By now, a little less than half of us had awakened and were now off to the cafeteria. On the way there, we found that some others who had the revered sanity to go home last night had come to work early to check up on us. We were supposed to teleport to Hiroshima at around 6 AM anyway, so it wasn't at all that absurd to be here an hour earlier.

_Hiroshima mayday; August 6, 1945 (Tsuzuki)_

_5:20 AM_

"Oh, wow, you're up already!"

I looked up at the source of the feminine voice, although not really needing to do that if my aim was to find out who it was. There weren't many female members in the house. "Oh, good morning, Miyuki-chan!" I greeted back.

We all took our seats in our normal lunch-break position, though we were a little crammed up today, seeing as that we've never actually eaten all at once. Some guys, like Chief and Nagano and Rin, traditionally preferred to have lunch a little later than most of us.

But, I must admit, this is actually exciting, like this. That we were all squeezed up in this tiny room. Like we were little kids going to a school trip or something, or maybe students staying at a dorm, and waking up to the sound of a mom-less, bratty-sister-less morning and instead finding beloved friends to share said morning with.

It was just such a lovely morning!

"Tsuzuki-san, you can have my cake, if you want," that was Tatsumi, gesturing towards his oh-so-untouched cake.

"But… Tatsumi, you have to eat. You know, gotta be full of energy later on," even to my own ears, I kinda sounded like I was begging to be disproved. Which was kind of true, although Tatsumi really did need to eat something…

Tatsumi gave me this cute little smile that said I should just take it anyway, even if it was unreasonable. It was cute, yeah, but it was scary too. He shoved the cake down my plate anyway. "I'm not really feeling hungry. Besides, _you _need _your _strength too," he said. I had a feeling he was not referring to physical strength.

At times like this, there was only one way to deal with Tatsumi – cuddle with him.

"Aww, geez, _Tatsumiiii_, you're so nice!" I flung my arms around his neck and he visibly stiffens – he wasn't used to this at all and neither was I, but I found it addicting when I had my first cuddle a decade ago. If I wanted to leave a legacy in Meifu, I wanted it to be that Shinigami could freely cuddle with each other. Shinigami were reeeally lonely people, you see.

Nanase and her partner Masahiro made fun of us by making smooching sounds and repeatedly hinting, "Kiss-y, kiss-y, Tatsumi and Tsuzuki!" But it was all good-natured. I think.

I smiled at them and rubbed my cheek against Tatsumi's smooth face, and reveled at the rare moment when my partner lost his composure over what I did.

"Tsuzuki," a deep voice called. I let go of Tatsumi's neck and turned to face the ever-serious face of my best friend's partner, Kasano-niisan.

I flashed him an innocent smile and wondered for a second what was going on in his mind. "Do you have a minute?" he asked. I nodded and followed him out of the dining room.

"It might be hard to believe but…" he began slowly, walking side by side with me until we left the room.

"Hanagawa-Kacho told me just now. He says the number of names appearing in the Kiseki still hasn't stopped increasing. By now, the count is a 5-digit number.," he began softly, so that I had to strain my ears to catch his words. The Shinigami were making way too much noise in the cafeteria.

"Five-digit number?" I paused to think of a figure. Around ten-twenty-thirty-forty thousand? No way! "That's… that's a lot…" Oh, gods, stop writing names on the Kiseki, dammit!

"Tsuzuki," he called me again. There was a hint of worry in his voice. "Many of us here have worked for JuuOhCho for many decades now… I'm not sure if you understand me very much, but this project means a lot to most of the older Shinigami."

"Why?" I couldn't help the bitterness in my tone. "It means a lot to me too! I mean, I know… even if I stay here and work for another hundred years, I will never forget it. After all, how can you forget something like… like _this_? So… Why is it special only to you?" I was feeling worse, actually, than what I had voiced just now.

He sighed, sweeping long, ebony black bangs away from his almost silver face. "You know that most of our much older friends… the ones who have already _moved on_, were from the age of the samurai, don't you?"

I nodded, remembering my first-ever partner with fondness. He was an uptight but secretly sweet samurai with a stubby nose. It made him look kinder than how he spoke to others, really. "Yes. Yes, I remember, some of our Senpai were samurai. Heiirakawa-san was a ninja, though. What about them?" I asked.

Kasano-nii led me to the common room and we settled by the spot beside the head-to-toe-sized window that gave us a good view of the sunrise. He looked at me with those physically young, but deep, old, and knowing black eyes, and I couldn't help but stare back at them, mainly because they looked like blackberries.

"Well, they never told you why only some of them were left, did they? When you got here—1926, wasn't it?—a great number of the older Shinigami had already decided to move on... during the year of Meiji, in 1900."

Tsuzuki felt an unwelcome shiver run down his spine. "That's when I was born…"

Kasano chuckled. "No, they didn't crossover because they didn't want to have to work with you, don't worry. This office was just filled with so much superstition back then… They said that when the Meiji year arrived, the son of the devil himself will come and it will be the end of the world. So… largely, the cowards asked to move on."

"Okaaaay… But what does it have to do with this one? 1945… is this a special year? …Sorry, I don't know anything at all," I apologized embarrassedly.

"Well… This is one of those… _perfect excuses_ for some Shinigami to move on. Back then, the 1990 being the year of the devil was just a secret way to get away from here… to die peacefully."

My eyebrows were furrowing in confusion. Wait… Perfect excuse, this? I think I lost him there… "I still don't understand…"

"Well, it's like this. If I were to go to you one day to tell you I'd decided to cross over, what will you do?"

I wasn't sure what he was getting at, so I just said what came to my mind first, "I'll stop you, of course! I don't want you to go! Besides, what about Kicchan?"

"See that?" he grinned. "It's hard to accept it as easily, than if I just said 'I want to move on because the devil's son is coming', or 'the remainder of my family bloodline in Hiroshima is gonna die anyway', isn't it? You understand now, don't you?"

"…" I couldn't help but frown. "That's… that's a pretty stupid reason."

He almost laughed at that, but I couldn't see what was so funny. Really, it was a stupid excuse to move on. Shinigami aren't Shinigami if we're scared of admitting that, are we?

Kasano-nii brought his hand to my hair and stroked it gently, almost like how a mother would. It was heavily contradicting with how I felt, but I found myself giving him a lopsided grin. Something good friends gave each other. He then said, "Keep smiling, Tsuzuki. This age will pass, too, and a new one will come. Although, I hope you will never forget this one. They were really good memories to keep, no?"

Oh, so that was it.

I think that's what he tried to tell me—be strong, because this age will come to pass too, like so many years have come and gone.

I think I can try my best and work hard later.

_/to be continued_

Not much for this chapter. Filler-thingie, this one. I just wanted to establish some things, so that the following chapters will go on smoothly. I'll try my best, and while I'm at it, please support me. Give me some food and review, please. :-) Even just for acknowledgement that you've read my work. (I slaved so hard to do research on this. --)

Next chapter: May Day!

-Deep Color


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